


Mashtyx

by lupiinikeiju



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Short One Shot, i don't know how to tag, nea being emo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-12
Updated: 2019-05-12
Packaged: 2020-03-01 15:32:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18803173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lupiinikeiju/pseuds/lupiinikeiju
Summary: Kate comforts Nea, who has a mental breakdown after fighting with Dwight. Personal items can make you feel a lot better when you don't have anything else.





	Mashtyx

**Author's Note:**

> I tried to write a Nea/Kate fic, but it didn't really turn out as ship-y as I wanted? But here it is anyway. English is not my first language so I apologize for any spelling or grammar errors this might have.

Mashtyx.

It was dark, darker than a night should have been this time of the year, and Nea could barely make out the word. It was spray-painted on a rock behind the campfire, the rock Dwight was leaning on and looking around nervously as he often did. The night was quiet, it always was, just before the horrors started again. Before the Entity reached out and pulled them into another endless nightmare. They always tried to enjoy the last moments of peace before the trial started, but it was not easy. Knowing what was to come. The campfire was warming them, but Nea shivered, thinking about a cold, rusty meathook that pierced her skin and muscles and forced her to remain still, to just hang without moving, because if she moved the pain would be unbearable. Just hang and wait for it all to end.

She didn't want it to happen again. She wanted to go home. She missed the small Swedish town she was born in, she missed her friends, she even missed her mom and dad. In the past, when her life was not about surviving the night or dying, knowing that the death would not free her from this nightmare, she never thought she could ever miss her parents. But now she wanted to see them again more than anything. She missed her mom, who always told her to focus on schoolwork, and she missed her dad, who took away her skateboard and spray paints after she had been on the run for two weeks. No matter how much she used to hate her life, she would give anything to get all that back. Anything would be better than this.

Nea wiped her eyes on her sleeve. This was stupid, she was not going to start crying like a toddler. She had seen things, she had lived on the strees, avoiding cops and anyone else who would drag her back home to her parents. She refused to be the perfect daughter they wanted, she actively rebelled against it, and they did not like it. Nea had seen it in their eyes when they looked at her and shaked their heads. She had not cried back then, and she was not going to cry now. She would work together with others who were trapped in here and find a way out of this, this... whatever this place was.

Nea stood up and slowly walked to the rock. She brushed her fingers against the rough texture and followed the letters with her fingertips. Mashtyx. Spray-painted on the rock with green paint. One of the scenes for the Entity's sick game was an old ski resort, and she had found an almost empty bottle of spray-paint there. She knew she could only carry one item without making it much more difficult for her to survive, and perhaps it would have been wiser to spare that space for a toolbox, a medical kit, even an ond, broken flashlight... Anything she could grasp on, hoping that it would help her through the exit gates. But she took the bottle, because it reminded her of what her life used to be. Skateboarding through the city at night with her friends, with wind on her hair and a grin on her face, sneaking around buildings, leaving her infamous signature everywhere she could. Her hands still remembered what it felt like to hold a spray bottle, and they longed to feel it again. She just couldn't leave it behind. So she took it with her, and she survived the trial and got to take the bottle to the campfire. Spraying her old signature on the rock felt amazing. She had almost forgotten the smell of fresh paint, but when she shook the bottle and let the paint spray on the rock, it was almost like she was back at the normal world again. She closed her eyes and smiled to herself, pressing her palm against the tag and thinking back to the day she painted it. It was like a ritual. Nea did it before every trial, to bring her luck and help her fight against the monsters that were hunting them.

”What's the point?” someone asked. Nea opened her eyes. She didn't like to be interrupted during such an important moment. Annoyed, she turned her head and saw Dwight, still leaning on the rock, his eyes glancing around scared as always, but also weirdly aggressive. As if he was trying to gather courage to attack Nea'slittle ritual, to question it. ”I don't get it. Why tag it when no one's ever going to see it? You could have used that paint for something, but you wasted it.”

”What, you think I could spray it to their eyes or something?” Nea glared at Dwight, her arms defensively crossed. She and Dwight had never really got along. Dwight was the unofficial leader of their small group, and Nea had always had a problem with leaders. She didn't like to feel like she had to obey someone. Dwight wasn't like that, he didn't command others around, and Nea knew that she was being unfair towards him. But she couldn't help it, so mostly she just stayed out of Dwight's way to avoid clashes. And Dwight did the same. But now they were lon each other's way, and Nea didn't like it.”Do you really think some paint is gonna stop that freak with the chainsaw? Or the one with broken limbs and a fucking katana?”

”Maybe” Dwight said, a bit louder, getting defensive as well. ”We know their eyes are a weak spot. We know we can blind them with bright lights. Maybe -”

”Maybe you could try minding your own fucking business, Dwight.” Nea spat the name out like an insult. Dwight opened his mouth, but seemed to decide that fighting with Nea was not something he wanted to spend his time on. He turned around and walked back to the campfire, sitting down next to Jake, quietly saying something to him. Both guys had their eyes on Nea, looking at her in a nasty way. Great, Nea thought, now I've got two enemies and not a single friend. How do I always manage to fuck up everything?

Nea squeezed her hand into fists and punched the rock. It hurt, but she bit her lip and stayed silent. Her knuckles were scratched and a drip of blood was running down her fingers. She felt so... powerless. Unable to do anything, unable to save anyone, not even herself. Dwight was right, there was no point in spraying her nickname on the rock. She would never get out of this world. None of them would. Nea tried to hold back the tears, but it was impossible. She walked around the rock where no one could see her, sat down on the ground and cried. Cried like she hadn't cried in years.

That's where Kate found her, almost twenty minutes later. Nea hadn't heard her, and by the time she saw Kate's feet in front of her it was too late to pretend she wasn't sobbing like a baby. Nea didn't lift her head, she could see Kate's shoes and that was enough. She didn't want to look at her face. But when Kate sat down next to her, Nea did not stand up and leave. Somehow Kate's presence was calming to her. Even when they were just sitting there, next to each other, without saying anything.

They sat there for quite some time. Nea took deep breaths, trying to calm herself down. She wiped her tears on her already dirty sleeve and glanced at Kate. She didn't seem to be in a hurry, or bothered by Nea's meltdown at all. The crackling sounds of the campfire echoed in the glade. Some of the other prisoners were sitting by the fire and talking. If Nea was in any other place, it would have been a nice scene, hanging out with her friends by the campfire and getting ready to sleep inside their safe and warm tents. But stuff like that would maybe never happen again, and these people were not her friends.

”You know, I used to have a guitar that I really loved” Kate said, looking up to the sky with a wistful expression. ”Have I ever told you about my life before I came into this place? I was a singer and a guitarist. And my guitar was my best friend. I carried it with me everywhere. Even when I wasn't playing it I always wanted it to be close to me. Sometimes I even slept with it. Nothing was as sweet as playing the strings and creating music with my fingers.” She looked at Nea, with a sad smile on her face. ”If I found a guitar somewhere in this hell, I'd sure as hell bring it here. To have something like that to keep me sane in this endless night? That would not be stupid or pointless. I would do anything to get a guitar here. Even if it cost me my life. After all, death seems to be only temporary in this world.”

Nea looked at Kate. This was a side of her she hadn't seen before. Kate was always so cheerful and optimistic, more than anyone else in here. Nea hadn't even thought about it, but of course there was something Kate missed, too. She had a past, just like everyone else in here. She hid it well, but she was just as broken and desperate as everyone else. Nea took Kate's hand in her own and caressed her wrist with her thumb. Their eyes met, and for a moment, these two girls felt like maybe, just maybe things weren't as hopeless as they seemed.

A few days later, Kate woke up at the campfire. The first thing she felt was pain, unbearable pain in her left shoulder, but it only lasted a millisecond and disappeared when her body realised that she was alive again.She had died, like countless times before. It never got any easier, it wasn't something you could get used to. She swallowed a scream, not wanting to wake up the others, they were still sleeping. Kate's whole body was shaking and she could still feel the Huntress' hatchets on her back, even though the Entity had repaired her broken body after her death. She crawled towards the stone, wanting something to lean on, when she saw something on the ground, right below the graffiti.

It was a guitar. An old and broken one, missing a string and probably badly out of tune, but a guitar nonetheless. Kate reached out her hand and touched the wooden surface. It felt so familiar, almost warm. It took Kate another moment to notice a piece of paper on the ground, next to the guitar. A single word, as a message from the person who brought the guitar here. Kate picked it up and her face lit up with a smile as she read the single word on the paper.

”Mashtyx”.


End file.
